


A quick guide to pickups by Mikeyway, age 23.

by modillian



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Pickup Lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-06
Updated: 2009-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:51:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modillian/pseuds/modillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And the thing is, nobody expects the quiet ones. Mikey takes advantage of that and gets laid more than anyone suspects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A quick guide to pickups by Mikeyway, age 23.

And the thing is, nobody expects the quiet ones. Mikey takes advantage of that and gets laid more than anyone suspects. It helps that after all this practice he knows how to kiss. Holy fuck, is he awesome at makeouts. It usually starts with-

-she sighs and eyeballs him lazily before sliding to another view. Unimpressed. Pretending to be bored. Lots of black liner helps emphasize the eyerolling. Mikey _knows_.

He bats off a guy grabbing his ass (maybe later, it depends), and slouches vaguely in the girl's direction. Indirectness, misdirection is key. Half the time he doesn't even need to bring her a drink, he's so awesome at this.

Between catching the girl's eye and going over to her, he'll linger at some closer midpoint but far away enough for a while (a stool, a corner, to bend and twist and show off some hip) so he can make sure she's carefully _not_ watching him.

And then meanders for her. "Hey," he says, low, looking straight at her. She hums and doesn't reply, usually (who are you, asshole? whatever, you can stay there, just don't harsh my mellow.) They watch the scene for a little, or listen to the band thrashing, and if he has a drink he'll check it for a while before casually handing it off to her (raised eyebrow, another hum, or fuck you, punk, I didn't ask for nothing) and go with a little small talk.

But all the important shit is in the motions. He'll hold his arms together, brush fingers by his face, keep hair over his eyes and draw attention to his hands, but he does not, _does not_ touch her (holy shit is that a quick way to get punched.)

And maybe she's not feeling it, or her sighs of boredom grow longer, or she has really horrible taste in music (the didgeridoo is not punk rock, sorry), so Mikey'll nod and leave or watch her girlfriends carry her off. He’ll leave her alone.

But hell, that doesn't happen too fucking much anyways. Usually he can catch her with his hands (long, flexible fingers) and his mouth. She'll keep dropping her eyes sideways or biting her lip, or look determined or intrigued (oh really? I don't believe that for a minute.) So he'll do the gradual lean-in and peck if she's cautious, or the slide-down for a longer kiss if she's not, or she'll just grab him if she's bossy (oh please, now I really don't believe you, just come 'ere.)

After that it's in the bag. Long-held reflex gets him from the short, exploratory kisses to the longer licking ones. Sometimes she's ready to go, and he gets good long minutes of hard kissing from the start, but for the other times coaxing her up to making out is just as awesome: going from eyerolling and sideways glances, to tentative kisses and tiptoe reaching, up until she gets to that moment -never at the same time for any girl- when she decides (yes, oh _yes_ ), and tumbles into wet and greedy kisses, to hair-pulling and crawling up his arms. Those times are more than worth it.

They end up in a hall or some barely-private corner, usually, and she pulls him to the wall and they grind and kiss until they can barely see, or she'll pull him to the floor (he knows he looks like someone to push around, and he works it) and ride him along the hard seam of their jeans. The look and sound of her coming against the own press of jeans is different than any other sex. It doesn't get old. Coming in his own jeans is a messy but necessary outcome.

Other times (awesome times), they can get a room that is really truly unoccupied or the door has a lock or can have shit pushed up against it to bar it. Then he can get her shirt off to suck at her tits and get his hands under her jeans and she can ride the palm of his hand as he fingers her. It's really nice just to hear her (oh oh _oh_ , fuck, do that again) instead of just the pound of the music when she comes, clenching tight, getting his palm all wet. He's usually smeared her makeup pretty well by then, making her pant, making her gasp and curse and making her not bored anymore.

And really, he has condoms (okay, usually he does, give him a break sometimes he forgets his own car keys), and he's all about fucking and having the wrecked-hair, dizzy-eyed girl climb onto his dick for another round. Or her swearing at him and demanding a condom and blowing him with squinty-eyed fervor. But really, it's just so nice and simple to _keep_ things nice and simple, to keep his hand right up between her legs after the first; to wheeze and gulp a little, find another angle to rub himself against her at the same time as he finds another spot to suck on her chest; to circle one-two-three around her clit again, pressing inside to find the right way to her g-spot. She might claw his back and tell him to fuck off, but then the moaning makes her forget, and Mikey never lasts for the third anyways.

So it usually ends with his pants ruined, mouth sore, and hands cramped, and her smoothing down fucked-to-hell hair, nipples very obvious under her shirt, and squirming sensitively in her too-tight jeans as they leave from wherever they were. And then she smiles at him ruefully. And then he grins back. Because Mikey knows he's _awesome_.


End file.
